


Finally

by HazelFlynn



Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 14:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13102518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelFlynn/pseuds/HazelFlynn
Summary: It was none of her business...but still.Finally.





	Finally

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I would to start by apologizing for any spelling or grammar errors, or any inconsistencies. This was written during the night shift at my nursing home because that's when I get the motivation to write, apparently. I'm happy to see more stuff in this fandom - yay!! So here's my 2-cents - a semi-retelling/re-working/AU of the episode "Apple". With a splash of slash ^^ Also: I'm terrible at being romantic.

Before he could say anything in response, the door had burst open. It was Lea; she seemed upset. 

“You won’t believe the crap Armen pulled on me last night!” 

Before he could say anything, it seemed Lea had invited herself into his apartment. 

“He cut the power to my apartment! That's right! No lights, no Wi-Fi, nothing - for fifteen minutes!” Her left eye was beginning to twitch. “If I’d been ventilator I could’ve suffocated in that time, right? You’re a doctor!” 

Was this what people considered “small-talk”? If it was, Shaun most definitely did not understand the purpose. “You’re not on a ventilator.” Her question was moot. 

“Thank god for that – but I could be! I mean it was dark; I could’ve tripped. Should I sue?” 

Shaun’s eyes drifted toward the apple left uneaten on his dining table. He didn’t want to bring it on the bus – he should eat it quickly. Dr. Melendez was going to be angry with him if he showed up late again. He didn’t want to disappoint him – the thought of disappointing Dr. Melendez made him just as unhappy as he imagined his attending. He should tell Lea to go but he didn’t want to be rude. She was asking a lot of questions. 

Before he could say anything, she had taken his morning apple off the dining table and taken a bite. 

“Sorry; were you gonna eat this? I stress eat.” 

That wasn’t an apology or a proper explanation. Why was she stressed? 

“He claimed I was playing my music too loud again!” A valid complaint. 

“I wear earplugs when your music irritates me. I miss the dripping.” 

“You’re missing the point here, Shaun, okay?” No, he was pretty sure she was the one missing the point. There was a simple solution to everyone’s grief. 

“You should get headphones.” 

Headphones, she repeated. Her eye was twitching again. 

“They would eliminate the sound.” At that, she put his partially eaten apple back on the table. 

“Thank you, Shaun. Thank you for being so objective about this.” She didn’t seem thankful - her tone didn’t match her words. Sarcasm. Was it something he said? 

Before he could say anything, she walked out. She had also ruined his breakfast. As Shaun would later recall, these were the unhappy circumstances that began the 12-hours of hell for the surgical team at St. Bonaventure hospital.

\--

He’s stable, but not out of the woods yet; keep a close eye on him. Those were Dr. Kim’s instructions before she departed. As the attending in the trauma ward, she had other patients waiting for her. 

Claire, on the other hand, did not. This was her only patient for the foreseeable future. Not like anything could’ve pulled her away, in any case. 

Maybe while she was watching the monitors like a hawk, her brain could finally make sense of what had transpired in the last several hours. It didn’t seem real; it replayed in her mind like she was recounting the plot of a bad movie. One where the good guys lost, and innocent people died, and somehow it was all supposed to mean something at the end. If there was a big, grand lesson, Claire couldn’t see it. How does something like this even happen? 

Usually, you would expect to get a warning before something ominous occurs. A sign that the day was going to take a terrible turn at some point. But they never got any warnings - the day started off infuriatingly normal; nothing seemingly amiss whatsoever. 

Claire showed up to work punctual as always; Jared plowed in with his stainless-steel tumbler filled with a fancy roast that according to one doctor smelled like leather, eager to please. The nurses weren’t picky though and neither was Claire – as long as it had caffeine, everything was good. She was downing her second cup before she realized someone was missing. She looked around for the familiar face of Shaun Murphy but failed to locate him. As she turned her attention to the entrance of the ER, where people flowed seamlessly in and out, weaving past one another as they made a beeline for their destination, she smiled and shook her head as he ducked in just before the doors slid closed. He was a mess. 

“You’re late,” Melendez said without looking up from the iPad, “again.” 

Shaun didn’t – couldn’t? – meet his eyes, and merely nodded. Someone ate is apple, was neither an explanation nor an excuse. The rest of the team waited for him to elaborate. His neighbour ate his apple, so he had to stop at the store, which made him miss his bus, which — 

Claire shut her eyes as she willed the memory thread to halt. He never got to finish his story. Because in that moment, the world went to shit in about thirty seconds. How did it even happen? How could it have? 

A man walks into an ER and pulls out a gun. Sounds like the beginning of a bad, un-PC joke, but Claire was pretty sure this wasn’t the punchline. Only one bullet was fired – even the gunman was shocked went it off. Evidently, this wasn’t his punchline either. Next thing anyone knew, the man with the gun was being tackled the ground by armed security. She remembered fear, panic, and shock – for a moment everything was silent. Then she heard the screaming. And the world imploded for a second time that morning, when she turned around and saw Shaun crumpled to the floor, clutching his abdomen. 

Blood was soaking through his shirt and sweater. Despite the injury and loss of blood, he seemed almost calm, his face covered in sweat but still almost calm as he instructed the nurse to keep pressure on the wound. 

Except the nurse wasn’t with him. 

Jared had lowered him to the ground safely, but the nurse was with Dr. Melendez, who had a laceration on his left arm that was also hemorrhaging blood profusely. She remembered hearing something clang and smash, and her eyes drifted to the bloody scalpel that was now on the floor. At least Shaun was talking – that was a good sign, right?

Well, it didn’t matter. 

By the time they lifted on to a bed he had begun to lose consciousness – speech slurring, eyes rolling back. By the time they go into the OR, he had passed out entirely. They had to work fast. The next few hours went by in a blur. Somehow, she had still managed to do her job, maybe through muscle memory alone. And now they were here – Shaun in a coma, Claire still in shock. 

It was silent aside from the whoosh of the ventilator and the beeping of the monitors. It was slowly driving her mad. She shook her head and bolted out of the room. Fuck everything. 

She didn’t know how long she was gone, but it couldn’t have been too long. When she finally cobbled up the courage to go back, Shaun was no longer alone. He was still unconscious, but attached is to his right hand was the palm of Dr. Melendez, sitting by the foot of his bed. 

Claire checked her phone - it was half past 5. Even if it wasn’t, he shouldn’t be here. He should be at home, resting, recuperating, dealing with how fucked up this all was, like she would be, eventually. 

“He’s gonna be okay.” She didn’t know what else to say. The words had slipped out before she had a second chance to think about it. He merely nodded, barely seeming to acknowledge her presence. His arm was neatly bandaged, and a melting ice pack resting on his lap, apparently forgotten. Claire was sure if she felt his scalp now, she would find a bump or tender spot. 

He really should be — “I’m not leaving.” 

Lim and Glassman had already tried. Unless she wanted to call security and have him forcibly removed, she could do what came to do, and leave him alone. 

Claire nodded and did as instructed – she did was she came back to do and prepared to leave, pausing briefly at the door. A million things were running through her mind – so many questions she wanted to ask. 

But when she looked back at Dr. Melendez, the broken look upon his face, she realized the timing just wasn’t right. He needed privacy and space – she could give him that much. But...it didn’t mean she couldn’t speculate. 

It was almost strange seeing him so emotional. Not that he was robotic in any sense – he expressed himself with ease, whether it was happiness or displeasure. And his humanity was never in question either, given the way he treated each and every patient with kindness and compassion. But it was the first time Claire had seen him so...depressed? 

Defeated. 

Down in the dumps? 

Okay, maybe the last one sounds a little juvenile, but it illustrated her point. The man was a mess - a shadow of his usual self - and not just because of what happened to him it seemed, but because of the other casualty of the morning's events, as well. 

Claire had never seen him so upset. 

Not when he was breaking bad news to his patients, nor even when the rumour circulated that he and Jessica had called it quits on their engagement. The rumour quietly became fact when, one by one, everyone silently noted the lack of sparkle on her ring finger. That, and the frigid demeanour that fell across the room whenever she and Melendez crossed paths. 

Each time, he bounced back. 

When he said he was okay, there was a tinge sadness in his eyes, but not to the point that one couldn’t honestly believe him. No one ever figured out why they had broken up - honestly, no one had the balls to ask. But Claire always thought that the romance must have just fizzled out. She couldn’t believe that infidelity played in a role in the break up. It was just so uncharacteristic of both parties. 

But as she continued to observe the attending - perhaps to the point that it was a little creepy - it occurred to her that maybe his heart had drifted elsewhere. But, she shrugged, that was none of her business.

\--

Neil was only partially aware that he was being watched from the doorway. It bothered him - he didn’t like people hovering - but at the same time, he couldn’t pull his attention away long enough to do something about it. 

_If I turn away for too long, you might disappear again._

He knew how crazy he sounded. He knew full well what could happen when emotions trumped over logic...but in this situation, he wasn’t sure what the logical answer was supposed to be. Because nothing about this situation was logical — he had no blueprint as to how to proceed. 

So, Neil did the only thing he knew how to do — he clung on to what he could and refused to let go until he knew everything was going to be okay. Even if he knew deep down, it would probably never be okay; not fully at least. When Shaun woke up, Neil wanted to be here. He wanted to be first face the young surgeon saw. Because then everything would, at least, feel okay. He could breathe a little easier. Shaun wasn’t going to disappear again — thank god. 

The last time he vanished, it had been a difficult couple of days for everyone. But Shaun especially seemed off — even more skittish than usual. It wasn’t his normal stimming, even Neil could tell. The way his nostrils flared, and his jaw clenched as he listened to his ideas being challenged. It was as though he was shutting down mentally, having been pushed beyond his limits. At that moment, Neil had reacted in frustration — _I don’t have time for a temper tantrum!_ — and ordered Shaun to leave. 

The fact that the thought even crossed his mind made him feel sick to his stomach now. 

He turned to the only person that he thought could make some sense out of the bizarre encounter. During a consultation, when the time seemed right, he asked Glassman, point-blank. 

“Is Shaun okay?” 

He could tell by the immediate reaction he was not. 

But instead of confiding in Neil, the man averted his weary eyes and let out an exhausted sigh. Was Shaun's work still up to par? It was but — Then there was nothing more to discuss; if his work is okay, then that’s all that mattered. 

At the time, Neil wanted so desperately to believe that. He wanted so desperately to convince himself that their relationship was purely professional — that he wasn’t holding back a huge weight in his heart every time he looked into Shaun's big, blue eyes. That he wasn’t slowly, but surely, developing feelings for the young surgeon that went beyond the platonic and professional. 

That weekend passed in a blur — he had begun to avoid Jessica at work and at home, a sullen silence blanketing every encounter before either could pull themselves together long enough to say what needed to be said. 

And when Monday came, and Shaun wasn’t there, and Glassman was frantic, and Jessica was trying to keep everything together but failing... Neil tried not to care so much; he really tried. 

But as he watched Glassman glaring furiously at his phone, tears of anger and sadness glimmering in his eyes, as he sat down defeated, he couldn’t just sit back and pretend to be unaffected, or annoyed, or whatever other front he’d been putting up to keep himself at a distance. And for Jessica that apparently was the finishing blow. Just like he could no longer keep up his facade, so too did hers crumble like a dried-up pastry. 

Eventually, Shaun came back. He didn’t know who or what convinced him, but he seemed refreshed — he was a new man. He was still Shaun but...he seemed renewed. The day Neil saw him walking down he hall in his doctor’s coat, hands folded across his abdomen, he almost couldn’t contain how ecstatic he was. Almost. 

“Where did you run off to?” He asked, keeping his eyes fixed on the iPad, hoping that Shaun didn’t notice the smile tugging at his lips. 

He went home for a while. He didn’t elaborate, and no one asked. Everyone just seemed relieved he was back. 

And when Neil had him back...part of him became terrified that Shaun was going to disappear again. That one off-handed comment or challenging argument was going to set him off, and Shaun would go home again...and maybe wouldn’t come back a second time. 

And so their conversations became stilted and awkward — as much as it pained Neil, he began to avoid being in the same room with him and patients. He had found that aspect to be more troubling to Shaun, and he was afraid, in a moment of anger, he would say something to set him off again. 

Shaun belonged in the OR — that’s where he thrived. In the OR, there were no interruptions, no politics, no mind games — it was him, Shaun, and the patient in front of them. And in the OR, that’s where he could breathe easier. Everything seemed more natural, and flowing, and freeing. Neil relished in watching him blossom and grow. It was the one place where he felt he could be openly happy with young surgeon without the prying eyes and gossip. And he had hoped that that would be enough — that he could just leave things like this and move on with his life, knowing that this was as far as thing were ever going to go. 

But now, as he sat here, still grasping Shaun hand...he heaved a sigh of defeat as he realized it wasn’t. Unless he was honest with himself, and honest with Shaun...it was never going to be enough to just be a boss, or a mentor, or a good friend; not if was just going to stay a one-way street. And even if Shaun’s end of the street didn’t go in the same direction as his...well, at least he knew. 

At least he could finally get some peace and closure. 

But he held a flicker of hope that maybe, jut maybe...Shaun felt the same way. That when his eyes lit up in the OR, and Neil knew he was smiling behind the surgical mask, and he encouraged his barely contained excitement...that the same thoughts were running through his mind, that were running his Neil’s. He couldn’t let himself trust that hope too much though, lest he be burned. 

But it helped to cement his convictions. 

He was finally as peace with his thoughts as the adrenaline wore off and he began to let himself sink into the physical pain and mental exhaustion that were the result of being fucking shot at. Neil smiled as he closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, just enough that he could still stroke his finger tips against Shaun.

For the first in a long time, he felt free to be happy with his feelings, knowing that no mattered what happens next, he could say in all honestly, he was falling in love with Shaun Murphy. Not as a colleague, or a student, or a brother — but as a human being. 

\--

When Claire came back, Shaun was awake — weak and exhausted, but awake and alert. She removed the intubation and offered him a cup of water, instructing him to drink slowly. He administered a dose of morphine from the PCA before asking for the time. 

It was just after 5AM, Claire answered. She began to explain what happened, but Shaun cut her off. 

He was shot, he lost consciousness; he had surgery and had six staples in the left lower quadrant of his abdomen. He didn’t want anymore details. The only thing he was curious about was the man sleeping in a chair at the foot of his bed. 

“Why is Dr. Melendez here?” 

Claire paused for a moment to gather her words. “I guess he was worried about you.” She didn’t know what else to say. 

She explained that they had tried to get him to go home, seeing as he was also injured. But the man stubbornly refused to leave. Ostensibly, he slept by Shaun’s bed all night. Claire paused, waiting for him to chime in. But he didn’t – his eyes were fixed on the fact that his finger tips were pressed up against Dr. Melendez’s as he slept. She tried to gauge his reaction, sneaking glances over at him as she pretended to be mostly focused on checking his IV bags...but Shaun remained silent. But Claire was sure she could almost hear the cogs turning in his mind, though. He was quiet and…almost sad, if she had to venture a guess. 

As if on cue, Dr. Melendez began to stir, and opened his eyes. Even in his exhausted, he managed to smile, and honestly, Claire thought his face would probably break if he opened his mouth any wider. Her presence seemed to be quickly forgotten as the two men became laser focused on each other, even as Shaun struggled to keep eye contact. 

“Claire said you slept here all night.” 

Melendez nodded; he didn’t want to risk leaving in case he coded in the middle of the night. 

Shaun smiled — that was very kind of him, but he really should be home resting. He turned the attending’s arm over and stroked aimlessly at the bandage on Melendez’s arm. Shaun asked him if he was alright. 

Melendez nodded. It looked like he wanted to say more, opening and closing his mouth several times, but the words didn’t come. He seemed like he didn’t know what to say, either.

Shaun too, Claire could tell, had much he needed to get off his chest. And as curious as she was, she knew she shouldn’t stay and gawk. And so, she quietly crossed the room and let herself out, pulling the door behind her. 

And just before the door closed completely, her jaw dropped just a little as Melendez leaned forward...and planted a tentative kiss on Shaun’s lips. 

And the best part? Shaun didn’t even seem surprised. 

In fact, he was smiling. 

Claire had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from squealing as she slowly shut the door. _Composure, Claire!_ Because as happy as she was, it was none of her business...but still. 

_Finally._


End file.
